


Counting Fireflies while your Boyfriend Sleeps (and the Moon says her goodnights)

by Atlas_Fox



Series: Sleepy Kenma [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Body Worship, Fireflies, Fluff, Gentle Kissing, Kuroo Tetsurou is Whipped, No Angst, Quiet, The Moon - Freeform, Unresolved Tension, and they both love each other very much, as a treat, but its not sad, if you want something that feels like white noise, kenma is enchanting, ok maybe a little angst, palm kissing, soft, this is it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlas_Fox/pseuds/Atlas_Fox
Summary: He didn't know if it was creepy or not, because technically, that is his partner. But even if it was, Kenma really doesn't know how he's supposed to pull himself away from the simple artistry that is Kuroo Tetsuros' sleeping face. There's just... something so calming about it. Like a confirmation that yeah, of course he trusts Kenma enough to fall asleep around him.Kenma smiles to himself in quiet reprieve.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: Sleepy Kenma [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994806
Kudos: 26





	Counting Fireflies while your Boyfriend Sleeps (and the Moon says her goodnights)

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, consistency isn't my thing, so BAM! Kuroo is the beautiful angel sleeping this time. Also i listened to an Undertale lofi mix while writing this so the vibe is real

There's just, something about the moonlight that pulls soft sounds and quiet minds to the niche of Kuroos' bedroom. He doesn't know what it is. He doesn't know why the air smells softer and why the space feels warmer. He doesn't know why this gently animated space should be any different to the comfort of his own home. Maybe it's the carpet. Grey and soft, still smooth from it's lack of warfare experience against midnight cat activity. Maybe it's the pulse of warm light brought around by those ridiculous fireflies. Seriously, they just love this place. He understands why Australia has those mesh-thingies on their windows.

Not that Kuroo is stupid enough to sleep alone with his window wide open.

He's not alone.

From his place on that undisturbed carpet, Kenma lifts his fingers slightly and leans his head back in wonder, trying to count how many fearless lightning-bugs land on him by feeling alone. Supported by the length of the bed frame, he looks up at the ceiling, at the fading glow-in-the-dark stars that must be about... 10 years old? He smiles fondly.

A nerd. Kenma had to remind himself that he was in fact dating a nerd who makes jokes and insults using scientifically correct terms. 

He counted three lightning bugs by touch alone.

His eyes told him six.

His _brain_ told him that there was a perfectly warm and loving boyfriend he should be sleeping with right now because he's tired and it _is_ in fact _too early;_ and _instead_ he's awake at two in the morning, counting fireflies. From his place on the floor, all he had to do was move his head to the left to see the dull grey outline of a mass of sleeping teenager (not really a teenager anymore). The navy bedsheets rose and fell in a soothing rhythm that told Kenma it was ok for him to breath too. That mess of stupidly shaped hair was a blackhole in the already dark room, a mass of soft character still strangely lit by an odd firefly here and there. Like a sleeping pile of coal.

Also, there was the Moon. She was privy to the sight as well and was Kenma's little nightlight. Hell, she was kind enough to shed some light on Kenmas' situation.

Kuroo slept curled up, a super defensive pose that likely makes up for the overwhelming confidence he has in social waking. One hand hangs off the end of his bed, exposed and rid of any blankets. His skin looks pale and ghostlike under the Moons watch, like the silver lining to every mass of beautiful clouds personified. Kenma wonders if he could hold his hand, then does so anyways with a horribly cute fascination that he knows he would be bullied for under any other circumstances. 

On his knees like a saint, he takes Kuroo's hand gently; so soft he wonders if Kuroo will notice at all.

Slowly, and with watchful care, he folds his own palms over the calloused and overworked hands of his captain- _former_ captain, right.

Right. 

His fingers told him that Kuroo didn't get his hand held very much. They were sensitive through the toughened skin, responsive and buzzing. Not that anyone else could see that. It's the burden of assumption and usual truth. He didn't like that Kuroo felt neglected.

His fingers fold over his palm again so he could trace the lines settled there. They criss-crossed like falling stars and their trails created canyons. Everything about Kuroo is so dramatic sometimes, like he's been waiting his whole life for a perfect movie scene to occur. The thought made him smile and he brings Kuroos hand up to press soft kisses onto his palm. Apparently, even in sleep Kuroo can recognise that's far too intimate to not be awake for it. Kenma never can spoil him.

Blinking eyes of ashen amber hold true through the half-moonlight, and focus down at the warmth at his hand. He sees Kenma. Which is brilliant and made him smile loosely, but that also meant that Kenma wasn't in bed. Which meant he was thinking too hard again.

"Kozume?" Kuroo whispered, "are you alright?"

Kenma flicked his eyes back up to his partner and got a little lost for a second because Kuroo's hand really was very distracting. It was warm and it was here and it was still and it was permanent.

"Hi," he said softly, as if that was a very valid answer to Kuroo's question. Consequently, his beautiful captain- _former_ \- took some initiative of his abducted limb. Just enough to slowly slide their palms and fingers together, and pull Kenma up from the floor in one gentle motion. The moon followed with her spotlight gaze as Kuroo tilted his head on the pillow, narrowed eyes almost closed from stubborn sleep. 

"Hi yourself" he said, gazing up at his soft, halo-esc boyfriend, "what's going on in that head of yours?" Because something was definitely happening and he needed to know if it was bad or not. Kenma stared down at him with a look of half awareness and half _'I'm thinking about something super hard and I cant pull myself out of it because my analytic lifestyle isn't something I can turn off'_ look. That look typically consisted of Kenma leaning over him with cat-slit eyes and half parted lips that had no business being so soft. He looked so pale under the mother Moon's kisses and even more ashen when he leaned a bit closer, gravity crushing down a tired body and shadows casing light.

"Your hands," he said quietly, brushing a thumb over their still joined hands "I like them."

Kuroo smiled slyly. "Well, _that's_ no surprise now is it? Considering how much you _love_ \--"

"Shh _hh_ hh _hh",_ a softly calloused hand slid over his mouth and Kenma leaned even closer, his hair falling into a curtain around their (almost) touching faces. " _No_ , you stupid teenager," he muttered, "your hands are _safe_. They're the safest place in the world and I know you think I'm wrong but you're ridiculous to think I meant anything else."

Kuroo smiled even wider at the admission, falling head over heels all over again.

"And _you're fascinating_."

His awe-struck words slipped through Kenmas fingers like water and made their impact the same moment Kuroo cupped his face. "You're so beautiful like this, so utterly stunning."

"Mildly disdained?"

"Morally _outraged_."

And Kenma blushed violently at the growl in his voice because while Kuroo is alarmingly booksmart, its usually _Kenma_ making philosophically flirtatious remarks. The weight of that observation is what pushed Kenma down onto Kuroo's chest and it's the rumbling, laden laugh that moves his tiny curled up form to slide down back onto the bed. Kuroo turned on his side and pulled Kenma impossibly closer to him with a _visibly_ strong arm. He tucked his head into the comfort of the wighted duvet and felt Kuroo's nose and pressing smile on his hair.

"Don't humiliate me like that."

"I'm sorry," he said with a smile.

A few seconds (minutes. and hour maybe) go by, and Kuroo speaks again, so gentle it almost doesn't break the silence. "You never did answer my question Kozume," came the crushing whisper, and for a moment those words stood alone. Suspended. Kenma caught them, of course.

He shifted slightly to settle his hands on Kuroo's exposed ribs and waistline.

"You're alright as it is," he responded, the duvet swallowing his words, "and I'm gonna fall asleep any second now, so don't worry about it."

Kuroo wrinkled his nose at that and brushed his hands up Kenma's sides to make sure he was paying attention. "Kenma, you're avoiding things again-"

Kenma's head darted out of the duvet and his lips swallowed the rest of his partner's words. It was soft and dominant and made Kuroo kind of wonder if maybe there's some kind of spell on his lips. Because it strips him of his senses so wholly, makes him so very pliant it's scary. He sighs softly and shuts his eyes, relying on his other senses alone. He tastes like honey and acid and a bone deep tired that drags you down to lower than earth. He doesn't need to breath, he decides, and instead feels his setter's hands press softly against his temples. Its like magic. Very fast acting magic. Kenma's powers are scary. 

The kiss doesn't deepen beyond that already intimate line, despite a flushed and half dazed Kuroo threading his fingers through his witch-cat-boyfriend's hair as a last ditch attempt to grounding himself. Instead, Kenma pulls back silently and bumps Kuroo's cheek with his head.

"I _promise_ Tetsuro," he says fondly, "I'm alright."

He looks him right in the eyes and the truth burned so brightly you'd think some lightning-bugs had taken his place. Kuroo stared at him in a daze and just absorbed his being there. He was warm, and he was happy and he was _his_ little Kenma to love and to hold till death do they part and forever more. Maybe he's getting a bit ahead of himself.

"You're here, and I'm alright, so don't worry too much about me."

Then they were both asleep, under the watchful gaze of their mother Moon, curled so tightly around each other you'd forget that nothing is permanent.


End file.
